A Hunting Past
by Lenihan
Summary: A short one-shot fic about Roy's trauma. Spoilers from episodes 13 and 15 are present, so you'd better not read this if you haven't seen those episodes. (COMPLETED)


**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Full Metal Alchemist_, or to be more precise, Roy Mustang, Tim Marco and Brasque Gran in this case. They all belong to the creators of Full Metal Alchemist.  
**Author's Note:** This story started as another random fic during one of my lessons. I know I should pay attention during lessons, but I already know what the teacher's going to say, so I usually don't bother with that. Anyway, for some obscure reason, I wanted to do something with Mustang's "trauma", or in other words, the Ishvar War. I hope I have the ranks correct. If not, please tell me that and I'll change it.  
About the woman... I'll leave it to the reader who she is. It could be Hawkeye, Ross or just your own created character for FMA, if you want that. If you've got an idea, please tell me. I'm curious to know about who people think she is.  
**Warnings:** PG-13 (things get a little juicy, but it's not that bad), spoilers from episodes 13 and 15 and things might be a little bit more dramatic than certain people appreciate.  
**Summary:** Roy's memories of his actions during the Ishvar War are hunting him.  
**Pairing:** Roy x ? (at least not Ed... unless Ed has changed himself into a woman Oo)

**

* * *

A Haunting Past**

The city was consumed by flames. In horror, Major Roy Mustang stared at the result of what had been a single snap with his fingers. He had seen the effects of his alchemy before, but never to such extent. He had never been upset when he had turned his power loose on someone, because he had always known before the punishment had been reasonable. But there were no reasons for this. This wasn't punishment; this was a brutal massacre of the people of Ishvar.

The next thing he knew was that he stood before a frightened young boy. Two red eyes looked up at him in fear and the Flame Alchemist could not help but to feel sympathy for the Ishvarite boy. But this was war; this was not the time for sympathy. They were enemies and if he didn't act quickly, the boy would kill him with his gun.

Tension built up between the Ishvarite and the Flame Alchemist. Neither dared to kill the other, to take the first step, but neither of them could go back. Then the boy made a fatal mistake. With a low terrified cry, he raised his gun and aimed at Mustang's chest. Mustang's eyes widened slightly with shock and a second later, flames licked at the boy, reaching the ceiling, then vanished, leaving the boy dead and blackened on the ground. What had he ever done to him? Nothing. But this was wartime. Such things happened. He had known it from the moment he joined the army.

And then he stood in the cold, dimly lit room, with the echoes of the shot fading away. In his trembling hands, he held a gun. On the gray stone floor lay the limp bodies of the doctors Rockbell. It had been an order from Colonel Brasque Gran. But he, Roy Mustang, had been the one to carry it out. Why? They had just been a married couple, doctors, and parents of the girl on the picture. All they had ever done was looking after the wounded and injured.

Long did he stand on the same spot, even though the corpses had been removed and there was no point in staying any longer. But Mustang couldn't force himself to move his legs and walk away. Almost hypnotized, he stared at the brownish red pool of blood, which was at the moment the only evidence of his crime. Over and over again, he saw the terrified faces of the two doctors. He could still hear the echoes of the two shots being fired. The only comfort he had in this darkness was that they had died almost instantly. They hadn't suffered much. But the comfort was small compared to his feeling of guilt.

It became too much for him to bear, the guilt nearly suffocated him. He couldn't stand it anymore. The more he thought of it, the more it became clearer that he should be dead as well. He had taken the lives of two doctors and he could only pay for them by taking his own life as well. Mustang pulled his own gun, pressing it against his lower jaw. His hands trembled violently while he waited for the voice of Doctor Tim Marco, to tell him it wasn't his fault, that he was only following orders. But there was no comforting voice and his finger slowly pulled the trigger. The last thing his senses detected was a loud bang and a sharp pain in his body.

* * *

With a gasp, Roy Mustang bolted up in his bed. He was sweating profusely and quivering with fear. For a moment, he could still feel the pain in his skull. With one shaking hand, Roy touched his throat carefully, scanning for some injuries, but he found nothing. He had no idea whether he ought to be glad or not.

Someone stirred next to him. A woman pushed herself up into a sitting position, yawning slightly and settled her head against his shoulder. A shiver ran down his spine at the familiar and trustingly gesture, when the two bare skins touched each other. After a moment's hesitation, Roy put an arm around her slim shoulders, saying nothing.

"Nightmares again? Memories hunting you?" the woman asked quietly. Roy didn't reply, knowing he didn't have to. The woman remained silent, stroking his back in a comforting way. He sighed softly, turning his head away and tried to regain his composure by pushing his haunting memories away.

They sat long together like that, neither of them moving and both enjoying the silent presence of each other. Finally, Roy took a deep breath and announced quietly, "I'm alright now." He removed his arm from her shoulders and lay back in bed. The woman curled up beside him, but he paid scant attention to her while he tried to fall asleep again.

He opened his eyes again in astonishment when the woman shifted above him, seductively wrapping an arm around his neck and tenderly pressed her lips against his. Then she did something she rarely did. Usually, he took the leading position during their little games. But now and then, when he felt a little down or wanted comfort and shelter, she would set aside her usual shyness and took charge. He didn't mind it during such times. He knew what a sacrifice it was to her to be on top and he appreciated her sensitively in such cases.

When they were finished, Roy pulled the woman gently to his chest, his strong arms encircled around her waist. The memories, which had hunted him before, had now faded away into a small corner of his mind, back together with all the other memories. He kissed her lightly on her hair. "Arigatou."

She smiled, pushing a small strand of his black hair away before she snuggled up at his chest and fell asleep. Roy Mustang listened to her breath for a while, feeling safe and secure again. With her sweet smile in mind, he, too, fell asleep.

_The End _


End file.
